


such exquisite torment

by muse_apollo



Series: muse's lonelyeyes oneshots [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Banter, But in a sexy way, Elias is a little shit, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild D/s, Misuse of Psychic Powers, Porn with a hint of Plot, Power Play, Teasing, bastard husbands, blatant abuse of menswear, it gets weirdly soft towards the end, kind of?, unnecessarily detailed descriptions of hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_apollo/pseuds/muse_apollo
Summary: Elias is Peter's date to a Lukas family wedding and he gets bored. Unfortunately when Elias gets bored he has a nasty habit of making it everyone else's problem.-or-the one where Elias uses his psychic powers to tease his husband during dinner
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Series: muse's lonelyeyes oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965331
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	such exquisite torment

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop writing for these two. This might not be entirely accurate to how Elias' powers actually work but i couldn't get the thought out of my head so... here we are.

Elias Bouchard was not a man prone to acting out of impulse, at least not in any way that had long term complications. Elias was a man of calculation and reason, nearly every action of his was distinctly influenced by his planning. Upon occasion, however, he was prone to more impulsive actions, and even to the occasional act of pettiness. Usually things that didn’t effect him too much in the long term, little inconveniences to others that he used for his own entertainment. This issue became something of particular note when Elias became  _ bored _ . Now, to clarify, boredom was not a common occurrence for him. This was because, generally speaking, there was almost always a way for him to keep himself entertained. Being able to keep an eye on things from a great distance provided him with a notable advantage against boredom, as it provided him with a steady stream of input. _ However _ , there were still those rare occasions upon which boredom overtook him and Elias was forced to produce his own entertainment.

Today was one such a day.

It was only sensible really, given the situation. Among all the events Elias had borne witness to in his two odd centuries of existence, Lukas family gatherings were perhaps the most grueling. It was the  _ quiet  _ that got to him really. Of course, Elias was more than aware of the reason behind the distance which members of the family kept from one another, but everyone standing in silence slowly sipping their drinks and staring into the middle distance was positively  _ excruciating _ .

But he and Peter were currently on good terms, and so Elias had promised to be on his best behaviour. Not that it was hard to be on good behaviour when all he had to do was sit in silence, and avoid making direct eye contact as that seemed to startle most members of the Lukas family. It was easy to keep his distance when he could keep his mind on other things. 

This particular event was a wedding, some cousin of Peter’s -there were enough that it was  _ almost _ difficult for even Elias to remember them all. Sometimes he would pretend he couldn’t quite recall which was which just to get on Peter’s nerves. But of course he  _ Knew _ , Beholding made it all too easy to access that information. The groom looked nervous, a scruffy, waif of a thing, with bottle-thick glasses and wide grey eyes. He was sweating in his ill-fitted suit and struggling to make more than three words with anyone. It seemed, to Elias, that he didn’t fully understand what he’d gotten himself into, and to be fair, he very likely didn’t. Elias could find some amusement in that at the very least.

Still, it was a short-lived joy.

The problem was that he already knew just about everything there was to know about the family, and none of them were particularly interesting. Minds full of fog didn’t hold their appeal for very long, and it took effort to gather anything but surface thoughts from a follower of Forsaken. Not to mention the fact that the ceremony was  _ long _ . Too long. Too traditional. Too full of people sitting a chaste distance apart from one another, decidedly _not_ touching.

The absence of touch doesn’t help either. Elias likes touch more than he’d admit aloud. He still held an attachment to physicality despite being a man of primarily intellectual pursuits, after all, what good was a body if he didn’t make some use of it? Normally he could at least slide close to Peter, draw some comfort from physical contact. Maybe tease him a bit, place a hand on his thigh, lean close and whisper something suggestive into his ear. But touch draws the stares in the Lukas family home, and he’s promised to behave himself.

So yes, overall Elias is in a bit of a mood. And when Elias was in a mood he had a nasty habit of making it other people’s problem.

The idea hits him rather suddenly, and he glances sideways at Peter, the corners of his mouth twisting up in a sly little grin. He pulls the thought out of the air, letting it form an image in his mind, a single frame, a still life to be easily projected into the other man’s mind.  _ Elias sliding down to kneel between Peter’s strong thighs, taking him into his mouth, slow and drawn out while Peter tangles a hand in his hair.  _

He holds the thought in his mind for a moment and then he  _ pushes _ , all the while watching Peter out of the corner of his eye. The reaction is immediate, however minute, he sees Peter tense in his seat just a bit, hears the slight intake of his breath as his grip on the bench seat tightens just a bit. He glances sideways at Elias a subtle thing, pale eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

_ Bastard _ .

The thought is clear and loud, intended to be heard. Elias merely arches an eyebrow in response, his lips curling in a devilish smile before turning his gaze back to the ceremony.

He doesn’t try again for the rest of the ceremony, content with the way that Peter is now shifting a bit in his seat, the way his eyes keep drifting away from the front of the chapel to trail over the side of Elias’ face.

When it’s finally over and the family has begun to move in the direction of the dining hall for the reception dinner, Peter seizes the opportunity to take hold of Elias’ arm, dragging him into a small room in the corner, pressing him back into the wall. Elias allows himself to be manhandled easily enough, his back pressed against the wall, Peter’s larger form looming over him.

“What the hell was all that about?” His voice is hoarse, and Elias can’t help the rush of smugness that he gets from that.

“Now, Peter  _ darling _ , I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tips his head back just a bit, looking up at his husband through dark lashes. 

“You’re an ass.”

“Am I?” Elias laughs a bit, one hand coming up to toy with the tie Peter’s wearing, twirling it between long, slender fingers. “You know, you really should wear suits more often, you look good like this.”

Peter just snorts at that. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

“What’s the matter, hm?” Elias tugs his tie again, and Peter allows himself to be pulled down a bit, enough that Elias can lean up and talk close to his ear. “Something on your mind?”

“Only because you put it there.” His head tips back just a bit in response to Elias’ breath on his neck. “And here I thought you were going to be on your best behaviour.” 

“I  _ have _ been.” Elias pulls back just enough to meet Peter’s eye, still close enough that their noses almost brushed. “Quite frankly I’m offended that you would suggest otherwise.” As he says this, he ran his hand down the length of Peter’s abdomen, pausing just above his belt, fingers dipping just below the waistband, a tease.

“Oh really?” Peter catches Elias’ chin in his hands, pulling him close, brushing their lips together. Elias retaliates by sinking his teeth into Peter’s lower lip, tugging it just a bit as they pull apart.

“Yes,  _ really _ . Now, we really should be getting back before someone starts to suspect we’ve snuck off, don’t you think?”

“Alright.” Peter steps back, letting Elias back off the wall. 

Elias releases Peter’s tie, before gesturing to the door with a wry smile. “After you, dear.”

Peter rolls his eyes just a bit at that before stepping out into the main room.

Elias does it again at dinner.

He can’t help himself really. Honestly, who could blame him? Everyone is so quiet and so  _ somber _ , and Peter is staring at his plate, and pointedly  _ not  _ looking at Elias, which makes him want the attention all the more.

So he conjures up another pretty little picture in his head. This time it's Peter flat on his back, with Elias riding him in slow, drawn out grinds of his hips, one hand wrapped tight around Peter’s throat.

His lips quirk in a small smile as he presses on the thought, sending it into Peter’s head. Once again he notices the shift in Peter’s demeanor, imperceptible to anyone not paying as close and careful attention as Elias was. His hand tightens just slightly around the stem of his wine glass, the set of his jaw growing a bit harder.

_ Stop that _ .

He doesn’t meet Elias’ gaze as he sends the thought his way, instead keeping his gaze focused firmly ahead of him. Elias simply smiles, a slow, catlike grin hidden behind the rim of his wine glass.

Technically speaking, he can’t conjure images without grounds, but instead has to rely on the insertion of memories. That being said, there are  _ more  _ than enough memories for Elias to work with, and while there Peter's memories as well, reinforcing them seems to have the desired effect anyway. All in all, he’s having a fair bit more fun than he’d care to admit.

He grasps another image, this one a memory of one of the times Peter had come to visit him at the institute after returning from six long weeks at sea. He’d hoisted Elias onto the desk and taken him right there, too eager to wait until they could go somewhere a bit more private. Elias had lost a good paperweight that day, as it had broken on impact with the hardwood, but he hadn’t been particularly upset about it. Not when the sex had been that good. 

He rolls the memory over in his mind and then sends it Peter’s way just like the others. This time Peter does look at him, his pale eyes are narrowed with irritation, but there’s a flush creeping out from under his collar, and his lips are parted just slightly. Elias licks his lips, noting the way Peter’s eyes drop to his mouth for just a moment. Then he turns back to his food.

Elias doesn’t push his luck further during the meal, and they finish eating in the eerie silence that characterizes gatherings in the Lukas family home. When they’ve said their goodnights -staying at the family estate is simpler than making the trip back to London late in the evening- they make their way to the guest room, to their shared accommodations.

It’s no sooner than the door is closed behind him that Peter has Elias pressed up against it. Not touching, just looming, looking down at him with wide-blown pupils. “You’re a real nuisance sometimes, you know that?” His voice is a hoarse growl, sending a shot of heat into the pit of Elias’ stomach.

“Really, Peter, I was just having a bit of fun.” He hooks a finger in Peter’s belt-loop as he speaks, tugging him a little closer. “You know how I get when I’m bored.” 

“Glad my family affairs bore you.”

Elias very narrowly refrains from rolling his eyes at that. “That’s kind of the point isn’t it?” He reaches up and starts undoing Peter’s tie. “And don’t tell me you weren’t having a miserable time. I _ Know _ you hate coming here.

“Stay out of my head, Elias.” There’s a bite of warning under his tone, and Elias feels heat pool low in his gut at the threat. It’s more a game than anything, they both knew that. The Lonely was an effective shield against the Eye, and it took effort if he wanted to dig into Peter’s mind, Elias could read only the thoughts Peter let him read without effort. Still Peter would never admit to it. 

“Or what?”

He gets the result he was hoping for, of course he does, a large, calloused hand coming up to wrap around his neck. It’s not choking, just holding him in place. Elias tips his head back, his lips curling up in a smile as he lets himself be pressed back into the sturdy wooden door.

“I know why you’re being like this…” Peter talks close enough to Elias’ face that Elias can feel the man’s breath on his lips. “You were just feeling  _ needy _ .”

Elias narrows his eyes at that. “I am  _ not _ needy.”

“Oh,  _ really _ ?” Peter’s hand, the one not still holding Elias by the neck, glides down over Elias’s abdomen in a parallel of their earlier interaction, pale, calloused fingers standing in stark contrast with the dark fabric of his waistcoat. “Because from where I was sitting it looked like you couldn’t even go one night without being the center of attention. So much so you had to start acting out. Seems pretty needy to me, how about you?” As he says this, his hand dips past Elias’ belt, knuckles brushing over the growing bulge in the front of his slacks.

Elias gasps just a bit, pressing his hips up into the touch. Peter presses harder on his neck, pulling the hand away.  “Ah, ah,” he chides, his tone no more than a throaty whisper. “ _ Stay _ .” He leans down then, nipping at Elias’ earlobe before pressing his mouth to the side of the other man’s neck. His beard is rough against the smooth, sensitive skin, and Elias feels a low gasp fall from his lips, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. 

“Are you upset with me?” He licks his lips, one hand coming up to tug lightly at Peter’s hair. Peter retaliates by sinking his teeth into Elias’ neck, hard enough that Elias has to bite his own lip to keep from making a sharp sound of pain. It wouldn’t do them well to be overheard, to disturb the quiet loneliness of the Lukas family estate. 

“What gave you that impression?” Peter’s thigh presses between his legs, and Elias very narrowly avoids pressing up into the contact, he doesn’t want to give Peter the satisfaction.

Elias opens his mouth to reply but Peter presses two fingers to his lips. “It was rhetorical,” his voice is a smug growl, and Elias parts his lips taking Peter’s fingers into his mouth, meeting his eye as he sucks them, letting them slide along the length of his tongue before taking them down into his throat. “What’s the matter, darling? Am I being a  _ tease _ ?”

Elias pulls back, meeting Peter’s gaze with a truly sour glare. A lesser man would have cowered under the intensity of the rage in those eyes, but Peter never seemed as phased by it as Elias would have liked him to be. “You’re being an  _ ass _ is what you are.”

Peter chuckled at that. “I think it’s only fair, don’t you?” A pause, punctuated by a sly smile. “Now how about you do something useful with that mouth of yours and get on your knees for me, hmm?”

Elias thinks about saying something, supplying yet another smug retort, but elects instead to play along with the game, sinking to his knees, planting his hands on his thighs and looking up at Peter through dark lashes. His lips quirk in a sly smile, unable to help but show the satisfaction of getting what he wants. He reaches up to undo Peter’s belt with practiced ease.

Once Elias has Peter’s slacks undone, he takes the other man’s length into his hand, stroking him until he’s fully hard. Then he leans in, wrapping his lips around the tip, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Elias pulls back a bit, teasing, and Peter reaches down, one large hand fisting in the steel grey strands of Elias’ hair, and pulling him down. At the same time, he presses his hips forwards, until the head of his cock hits the back of Elias’ throat, holding him there. Elias doesn’t choke, he never does, but it’s still not exactly easy to breathe like this and his eyes are watering by the time Peter slides himself back out, offering brief reprieve before he thrusts back in. He sets the pace quickly enough, holding Elias by the hair and fucking into his mouth. Elias lets his eyes fall shut and his jaw go slack, letting Peter use his throat the way he needs to, his own nails biting into his thighs through the fabric of his trousers. 

It’s relentless, each thrust of his hips hitting the back of Elias’ throat, but Elias takes it without complaint, this is what he’d wanted after all. 

Eventually, Peter pulls back, or rather, the hand in his hair drags Elias off of him, tugging enough to tilt Elias’ head back so the other man is forced to meet his eyes. Elias is sure he’s a sight like this, his hair mussed, face flush and lips swollen, he can feel the wetness on his cheeks from his watering eyes, and is sure the black eyeliner he had on his waterline is streaked down his cheeks. He raises a hand to his face, wiping at the drool that’s dripping down his chin. He can tell by the way Peter looks at him that he’s satisfied with the sight. Peter has always enjoyed messing him up.

Peter grins down at him, pupils blown wide. His hand pushes Elias’ hair gently out of his face, one broad, calloused hand stroking over his cheek with something almost like tenderness, his thumb catching at Elias lower lip, tugging it down just a bit.

“So lovely like this.” He crooks his fingers under the other man’s chin. “Such a pretty little mess and just for me.”

“I always look pretty.” Elias snaps back, green eyes narrowing just slightly.

th e slap is light, barely more than a tease, but still stings a bit. "Brat."

Elias arches an eyebrow. “You’ll have to hit me a lot harder than that if you want a reaction.”

“You’d like it too much.”

Elias just juts his lower lip out in a pout. “Really Peter, I’m your husband you should be more-”

The sound of the next slap echoes through the quiet of the room and sends Elias’ head snapping to one side, a small whimper falling from his lips. 

He licks his lips as he turns his gaze back to Peter, green eyes burning with defiance. “That’s _better._ ”

“Stand up.”

Elias does as he’s asked, and Peter wraps an arm around his waist, dragging him into a kiss. It’s deep and messy, his tongue pressing into the other man’s mouth, claiming him. Elias kisses him back, wrapping an arm around his neck, and finds himself being abruptly lifted off the ground. He laughs at the sudden change, wrapping long legs around Peter’s waist and allowing himself to be carried across the room, all the while his lips are on the other man’s neck, biting hard, sucking skin between his teeth in order to break blood vessels. He hopes the marks will last at least a week.

When they reach the bed, Peter throws him down onto it with such force that Elias actually bounces a bit.

Then Peter’s stripping off his clothes, exposing broad shoulders toned from years of labour on ships, he’s barrel chested, with thick greying blonde hair growing across it and down over the soft swell of his stomach. Elias trails his eyes over the other man’s abdomen, down to where his cock sits heavy between his legs, and he licks his lips. He starts stripping off his own clothes, his jacket first, which he folds neatly and places on the bedside table; waistcoat and tie following close behind.

Peter crawls up the bed towards Elias, and Elias lets himself be pushed back, resting on his elbows as Peter looms over him. He begins work on the buttons of his dress-shirt but Peter grasps his wrists, tugging his hands away. His own hands find their way to the buttons, tugging impatiently at the fabric, hands unaccustomed to delicacy.

“Careful with-”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” A pause, and a nip to the skin of his neck. “A dozen new ones if that’s what you want.” 

Elias drags him down into a kiss, teeth sinking into Peter’s lower lip at the tearing of fabric, loud in the silence of the room.

“At  _ least  _ a dozen.”

“You really are a spoiled little brat.” He sounds almost pleased when he says it.

“And whose fault is that?”

Peter scoffs. “You were like this long before  _ I  _ ever met you.”

“Eat me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He descends on Elias then, kissing him with a deep hunger. His hands glide up over Elias’ sides. The calluses are rough against his skin, his hands broad enough to encompass the majority of his ribcage. This body has always been more petit than the last, something Peter seemed to relish in. 

Peter plants a trail of biting kisses down the side of Elias’ neck, pausing when he reaches his shoulder to suck a bruise into the skin. Elias moans a little at that, pressing up against him, reveling in the weight of Peter atop him. A hand slinks its way down to undo Elias’ trousers sliding beneath the waistband to stroke him through the front of his boxers. Elias gasps as Peters hand wraps around his length, hips canting up just slightly, pressing into the contact.

Peter hums a pleased sound, before beginning to trail his mouth down over Elias’ abdomen, pausing to tease at a nipple, sucking for a moment, tongue swirling around the sensitive skin before scraping his teeth over the tender skin there. Elias moans low in his throat, tugging at Peter’s hair, pressing on the top of his head just slightly to urge him downwards. Peter obliges, kissing along the length of Elias’ chest and stomach, slow and teasing, drawing it out. Elias responds by hooking a long, slender leg around Peter’s waist, keeping him close, bucking his hips up in a desperate attempt to attain even the slightest amount of friction. 

Peter sucks another bruise into his skin slightly to the left of his bellybutton, another along the tight skin of his hip bone when he reaches it. Elias always finds himself counting the bruises after their nights together. Peter is surprisingly possessive for an avatar of the Lo nely, not that he’d ever acknowledge it if you pointed it out to him. He was far more likely to vanish on you than to respond to the discussion at hand.

He tugs at the waistband of Elias’ slacks then, rough and clumsy. There’s a moment of fumbling as he tries to pull the well-tailored slacks down past the swell of Elias’ thighs.

“Why do you have to wear them so tight?” Peter growls.

“You know precisely why.” Elias wiggles his hips as he helps Peter to drag the slacks down. “And I’ve never seen you complain.”

“Style over function is it?” Peter raises an eyebrow.

By now Elias is naked, his hard cock resting against his stomach, desperate to be touched. “Are you gonna blow me or are you just gonna be a tease?”

Peter licks his lips. “Are you gonna ask nicely? Peter’s top lip curls in a snarl, and he hooks Elias’ knee up over one shoulder, dropping his head to nip at the tender skin of the other man’s inner thigh. Elias can’t help the small sound that falls from his lips as Peter sucks sensitive skin between his teeth. Peter doesn’t stop, sucking harder at the skin as Elias lets out a series of soft, keening moans, his hand tangling in Peter’s hair and tugging hard.

When Peter bites him he almost cries out, but manages to press a hand to his mouth, his teeth sinking into his own wrist to stop himself making noise. It hurts, the pain bordering on too much, but Peter keeps going even as Elias tries to pull him away, he understands the nature of their game; Elias will tell him if he truly needs him to stop. 

There’ll be marks later, he’s sure of that, but there’s always marks with the two of them. Elias likes it that way, likes to see Peter on his skin for weeks afterwards.

Peter’s tongue soothes over the bruise there, running up the inside of Elias’ thigh just a bit, teasing. Elias presses his hips up only for Peter to brace an arm across him, pressing him down into the mattress. “ _ Stay _ .” He growls.

“I’m not a fucking dog.” Elias retorts. 

Peter looks close to rolling his eyes at that. Then, without warning, he shoves Elias’ other leg over his shoulder and drops his head, his tongue darting across Elias’ hole. Elias’ bites his tongue hard to keep from gasping as he presses back into the contact. Peter sets to work on him, expertly opening him with each flick of his tongue. Elias finds himself gasping, grasping at Peter’s hair, his thighs tightening just a bit around the other man’s shoulders. Eventually Peter pulled back, planting a string of kisses back up the length of Elias’ thigh, the coarse hairs of his beard scraping against the sensitive skin there.

“What do you want,  _ sweetheart _ ?” The pet name is a taunt, they always are. 

“You know what I want.”

Peter bites him again, this time his teeth sink into the skin just above Elias’ hipbone, hard enough to have him whining . “You won’t get anything you want without asking for it,” he retorts.

“ _ Peter _ .” Elias’ response comes out hoarser than he means it to, desire burning hot in his chest.

Peter meets his eye then, lips quirking in a sly little smile. “What? Is there something you want?”

Elias knows what Peter wants him to say, he grits his teeth, and the word comes quiet and strained. “Please.”

“What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.” His breath ghosts over the head of Elias’ cock, his hands still holding the other man’s hips firmly in place.

“I said  _ please _ .” Elias snaps back.

“Please what?”

He bites his cheek hard enough to almost draw blood, his face hot with a combination of rage and shame. “ _ Please _ , Peter, I want- I  _ need _ you to fuck me.”

“There’s a good boy.” Peter presses a kiss to the inside of Elias’ thigh. “Did you bring lube?”

“In my bag.”

Peter’s grin is far too pleased for Elias’ liking as he stands, crossing the room quickly before returning with the bottle. He slicks up his fingers, and presses one to Elias’ entrance, slipping inside without hesitation. Elias sighs as it sinks in, his head falling back against the mattress at the stretch, pain giving way to pleasure. Peter fingers him slow, too slow for Elias’ liking, but he can be patient, or at the very least, he can pretend to be.

When Peter finally slides another finger inside him Elias has to stop himself from sighing with relief, instead settling on a pleased groan, one leg hooking up over the other man’s shoulder. Peter takes the head of Elias’ cock into his mouth at the same time as he crooks his fingers inside him, pressing against the other man’s prostate. Elias does cry out then, the sound muffled by the clap of his own hand over his mouth.

“ _ Please _ .” He doesn’t even mean to say it this time, the words simply fall unbidden from his lips, one hand reaching down to tug roughly at Peter’s hair. “Fuck. I need-” 

“Need what?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” 

Peter laughs, a deep, throaty rumble. “Don’t worry, my darling, I know what you need. You’ve done enough begging for one night.” Peter crawls up the length of his body then, slipping his fingers out. He slicks up his own length, before lining himself up with Elias’ entrance. 

Both men moan in tandem when Peter presses past his rim. Peter is thick, and Elias loves the stretch of him, his head falling back against the pillow, tendons in his neck straining just a bit. When he opens his eyes again, Peter is looking down at him with that pale gaze, pupils blown wide. Elias wraps an arm around his neck, dragging Peter down into a kiss. It’s a sloppy, open-mouthed thing, punctuated by a thrust of Peter’s hips that has both of them panting into each other’s mouths.

They find their rhythm quickly. It’s not as rough as they usually are with each other, because the bed is old and creaks with any rapid movement, and the house is far too quiet. Instead it's a slower, drawn out thing, Peter pressing into him again and again, while Elias tightens his thighs around the other man’s hips to keep him close.

They keep quiet, panting against each other’s lips, kissing to muffle the sounds of moans while they fuck. Elias rakes his hands down Peter’s back more than once, leaving hard red lines that he hopes will take hours to fade. He hopes he might break blood vessels so that the marks will stay for days.

Peter sucks a bruise into the skin of his throat, just beneath his jaw, too high to be hidden by a collar, and Elias groans, taking hold of the other man’s hand and pressing it down to wrap around his cock. Peter jerks him off roughly, hand moving in time with each thrust of his hips, Elias bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out when he comes, hands biting into the back of Peter’s neck, tugging him closer. Peter comes s hortly after, pressing his hips deep inside of the other man as he spills inside him.

Elias holds him close afterwards, wrapping an arm around his neck and keeping him in place while they catch their breath. Peter has never been one for casual intimacy, it's too much for him, makes him feel too seen. He needs to maintain distance, at least in part. So Elias learned quickly to take advantage of moments like this, brief periods in which the guard fell away and Peter allowed himself to be held. 

Eventually Peter did pull away, and Elias allowed it, letting the cold absence of the other man settle in his chest. He wanders to the bathroom to clean himself up, and when he returns, Peter is settled between the sheets, the blanket tugged up almost to his chin, and his eyes shut. He’s not asleep, Elias knows, but he maintains the illusion as he dresses into his own pajamas before slipping between the covers, pressing just close enough to Peter that their legs brushed under the blanket, allowing Peter to maintain his illusion of distance while still garnering the touch he needed.

He didn’t have to  _ Look _ to feel the gentle waves of contentment that Peter felt as they settled into each other. Not that he’d ever admit it. Still, the words lingered just behind Peter’s eyes, dancing across the surface of his mind just beneath his skull. Those three little words that neither of them ever said aloud but that they both knew to be true. 

Elias felt his lips curl up in a smile, and shifted just a bit closer beneath the blanket, letting his eyes drift shut as he slipped into sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> This got weirdly soft towards the end? Anyway I hope you liked it. 
> 
> I'm @muse_appollo on twitter if you wanna be friends


End file.
